Legend
Chapter XXIII: Marked
By Marie McKinnon
Slight high heels clicked against the cold, unwelcoming stone floor of the Hogwarts dungeon. Peering through the heavy shadows in an attempt to discern one piece of wall from another, Ginny squinted at what she knew was Professor Snape's classroom. She kept walking with a smile on her face as she heard the echoes of her footsteps bouncing off of the sides of the passageway. Her feet took step after confident step into the gloom. One door, she counted mentally. Not much farther now. The clang of swords was already audible, but only to her; no one would hear their arguments in case of a report to parents or teachers.
Their clashing strokes halted abruptly, accompanied by a laugh she knew was Draco's. It came out as more of a snort of amusement or ridicule than a laugh, though no one really cared to tell the difference.
"Oh, shut it, Malfoy," Harry growled, humiliated. "Help me get it down, will you?" Once again, Harry had entered a duel with his vassal, and once again he had been relieved of his sword, which had flown into the wall. They both endeavored to pull it out by jumping up and down, standing on each other's shoulders, and using summoning spells, but nothing worked. When Ginny entered, they had their eyes shut tightly and were sitting perfectly still.
She stood there for a moment, waiting to see what they were doing. It finally looked so silly that she broke their concentration by asking "Excuse me, have I interrupted meditation hour? Shall I come back later?"
"We're trying to get Excalibur out of the wall," Harry explained, nodding to his sword.
"Again," Draco added with a smirk.
Eyeing them suspiciously, she said "Please tell me you weren't throwing weapons around and Excalibur just so happened to fly into the wall."
"I was disarmed."
"Again."
In a few blinks Ginny was across the room, almost directly under the silver blade making a perpendicular angle with the wall. She checked her position, then rose steadily off the floor, glowing with magic. It wasn't dramatic or eye catching, though wandless flight usually would have been. Her arms were at her sides, hanging relaxed, and she seemed to have not noticed that her feet were suddenly about two meters above the floor. She easily pulled it out from its place, holding it reverently.
"Try that next time," she suggested, handing it back to Harry. "Draco, instead of disarming him, would you please teach him how to avoid being disarmed?"
His gray eyes glinted. "If you insist. Though it is rather amusing to watch him jumping up and down, trying to reach his sword."
"Amusing, but not productive."
Harry looked at her suspiciously. "And exactly what have you been doing to become so productive that you can lecture us about it?"
Harry suddenly flipped upside-down, messy hair brushing the ground. Excalibur clanged harshly against the stone, then lay almost still, vibrating. The hem of his robes slipped over his arms, inhibiting them. Thankfully for the others, he had tucked his shirt in.
"Well, you can't say that's not useful," Draco sniggered. "You've invented the Amazing Wonder Mop." He watched her back carefully, scanning her shoulders and arms for the beginning of a movement. Seeing nothing, he relaxed, only to suddenly rise off the floor, carried by the seat of his trousers. Ginny hadn't even turned around.
"As you can see," she continued, "I've been experimenting with the manipulation of objects other than myself and enchanting more than one object at once. Do you think I've been productive?"
"Potter's turning purple."
Her head turned towards the speaker, smiling cockily. A loud thud was heard from behind her, accompanied by a string of swear words. Harry heaved himself up onto his feet, rubbing his head gingerly. Once his vision had cleared sufficiently, he snorted with laughter at the untouchable Draco Malfoy, hanging in the air by his trousers. Remembering what had happened when Malfoy had laughed at him, he clapped a hand over his mouth.
Each step forward was deliberate until Ginny stood almost at eye level with the new wall hanging. "I think I might just leave you there," she said. "You do wonders for the décor."
*
Two hours or so later, a pair of students sat by the lake silently, not speaking, not moving. Her hair burst into flame in the glow of the dying sun, completely ignoring that she sat under a tree to remain in the shade. Keeping her company was a young man, approximately her age, who kept his hands to himself with great effort. His eyes, however, he could not control in the slightest. He looked at her clothes, smiling to himself about her independence. While every other girl in the school, with the possible exception of Hermione, wore minuscule shorts and shirts that could have doubled for bikini tops, Ginny had on a shortsleeved shirt that actually could be tucked in, which it was. Her shorts were so long that they ended a little bit above her knees and covered her hips at the same time. Nonetheless, she looked lovely, clean, and happy.
Draco smiled at her, knowing that if he told her what he thought, she would make some unappreciated sarcastic comment. It was unusual, though, for a girl to be so undoubtedly beautiful and for her not to show it off with skimpy clothing. Perhaps, he thought, that her good taste in clothing made her even more gorgeous. She seemed innocent, untouched by the media, but he knew she wasn't. If anything, she paid more attention to the media than ever, watching restlessly for another article that would draw attention to herself when she least wanted it. Getting attention, when one has supernatural powers that need to be hidden, is not very beneficial for the cause.
He hazarded contact, lightly draping his arm over her shoulders. The water on the lake glittered with the slanted rays of golden light playing across its surface. A flash of light from behind startled them into jumping up, looking around, and stopping to see the sun slipping below the horizon. In the sudden twilight, torches from the castle began to look inviting, and they headed back for dinner.
*
Climbing the marble staircase, Ginny smiled at the faint cries of "Mercy! Please, have mercy!" from the stairs. Obviously someone had left their read-aloud book open on the table when they descended to dinner. Floating down through the air came a harsh voice. "Avada Kedavra!" It shouted. She shuddered. Whoever read that in a time when the incantation was heard much too often probably didn't have much of a conscience.
It was deserted. Not one person remained in the tower, leaving her light footsteps to echo in the emptiness. The storyteller's voice had halted, probably at the end of a chapter. She thanked it silently, not wanting to have to search out the book and close it to achieve peace of mind. Unfortunately, she was far from peace of mind.
At the top of the steps she halted, completely winded. It wasn't the exercise; she was in quite good shape, and stairs didn't bother her. An emerald haze floated between her and her dormitory doors, formed of minute sparks, some darker than others. A skull leered at her, as did the serpent that protruded from one of its vacant openings. Ginny grasped the bannister for support, trying shut out the realization that her bedroom was guarded by the Dark Mark.
Slight high heels clicked against the cold, unwelcoming stone floor of the Hogwarts dungeon. Peering through the heavy shadows in an attempt to discern one piece of wall from another, Ginny squinted at what she knew was Professor Snape's classroom. She kept walking with a smile on her face as she heard the echoes of her footsteps bouncing off of the sides of the passageway. Her feet took step after confident step into the gloom. One door, she counted mentally. Not much farther now. The clang of swords was already audible, but only to her; no one would hear their arguments in case of a report to parents or teachers.
Their clashing strokes halted abruptly, accompanied by a laugh she knew was Draco's. It came out as more of a snort of amusement or ridicule than a laugh, though no one really cared to tell the difference.
"Oh, shut it, Malfoy," Harry growled, humiliated. "Help me get it down, will you?" Once again, Harry had entered a duel with his vassal, and once again he had been relieved of his sword, which had flown into the wall. They both endeavored to pull it out by jumping up and down, standing on each other's shoulders, and using summoning spells, but nothing worked. When Ginny entered, they had their eyes shut tightly and were sitting perfectly still.
She stood there for a moment, waiting to see what they were doing. It finally looked so silly that she broke their concentration by asking "Excuse me, have I interrupted meditation hour? Shall I come back later?"
"We're trying to get Excalibur out of the wall," Harry explained, nodding to his sword.
"Again," Draco added with a smirk.
Eyeing them suspiciously, she said "Please tell me you weren't throwing weapons around and Excalibur just so happened to fly into the wall."
"I was disarmed."
"Again."
In a few blinks Ginny was across the room, almost directly under the silver blade making a perpendicular angle with the wall. She checked her position, then rose steadily off the floor, glowing with magic. It wasn't dramatic or eye catching, though wandless flight usually would have been. Her arms were at her sides, hanging relaxed, and she seemed to have not noticed that her feet were suddenly about two meters above the floor. She easily pulled it out from its place, holding it reverently.
"Try that next time," she suggested, handing it back to Harry. "Draco, instead of disarming him, would you please teach him how to avoid being disarmed?"
His gray eyes glinted. "If you insist. Though it is rather amusing to watch him jumping up and down, trying to reach his sword."
"Amusing, but not productive."
Harry looked at her suspiciously. "And exactly what have you been doing to become so productive that you can lecture us about it?"
Harry suddenly flipped upside-down, messy hair brushing the ground. Excalibur clanged harshly against the stone, then lay almost still, vibrating. The hem of his robes slipped over his arms, inhibiting them. Thankfully for the others, he had tucked his shirt in.
"Well, you can't say that's not useful," Draco sniggered. "You've invented the Amazing Wonder Mop." He watched her back carefully, scanning her shoulders and arms for the beginning of a movement. Seeing nothing, he relaxed, only to suddenly rise off the floor, carried by the seat of his trousers. Ginny hadn't even turned around.
"As you can see," she continued, "I've been experimenting with the manipulation of objects other than myself and enchanting more than one object at once. Do you think I've been productive?"
"Potter's turning purple."
Her head turned towards the speaker, smiling cockily. A loud thud was heard from behind her, accompanied by a string of swear words. Harry heaved himself up onto his feet, rubbing his head gingerly. Once his vision had cleared sufficiently, he snorted with laughter at the untouchable Draco Malfoy, hanging in the air by his trousers. Remembering what had happened when Malfoy had laughed at him, he clapped a hand over his mouth.
Each step forward was deliberate until Ginny stood almost at eye level with the new wall hanging. "I think I might just leave you there," she said. "You do wonders for the décor."
*
Two hours or so later, a pair of students sat by the lake silently, not speaking, not moving. Her hair burst into flame in the glow of the dying sun, completely ignoring that she sat under a tree to remain in the shade. Keeping her company was a young man, approximately her age, who kept his hands to himself with great effort. His eyes, however, he could not control in the slightest. He looked at her clothes, smiling to himself about her independence. While every other girl in the school, with the possible exception of Hermione, wore minuscule shorts and shirts that could have doubled for bikini tops, Ginny had on a shortsleeved shirt that actually could be tucked in, which it was. Her shorts were so long that they ended a little bit above her knees and covered her hips at the same time. Nonetheless, she looked lovely, clean, and happy.
Draco smiled at her, knowing that if he told her what he thought, she would make some unappreciated sarcastic comment. It was unusual, though, for a girl to be so undoubtedly beautiful and for her not to show it off with skimpy clothing. Perhaps, he thought, that her good taste in clothing made her even more gorgeous. She seemed innocent, untouched by the media, but he knew she wasn't. If anything, she paid more attention to the media than ever, watching restlessly for another article that would draw attention to herself when she least wanted it. Getting attention, when one has supernatural powers that need to be hidden, is not very beneficial for the cause.
He hazarded contact, lightly draping his arm over her shoulders. The water on the lake glittered with the slanted rays of golden light playing across its surface. A flash of light from behind startled them into jumping up, looking around, and stopping to see the sun slipping below the horizon. In the sudden twilight, torches from the castle began to look inviting, and they headed back for dinner.
*
Climbing the marble staircase, Ginny smiled at the faint cries of "Mercy! Please, have mercy!" from the stairs. Obviously someone had left their read-aloud book open on the table when they descended to dinner. Floating down through the air came a harsh voice. "Avada Kedavra!" It shouted. She shuddered. Whoever read that in a time when the incantation was heard much too often probably didn't have much of a conscience.
It was deserted. Not one person remained in the tower, leaving her light footsteps to echo in the emptiness. The storyteller's voice had halted, probably at the end of a chapter. She thanked it silently, not wanting to have to search out the book and close it to achieve peace of mind. Unfortunately, she was far from peace of mind.
At the top of the steps she halted, completely winded. It wasn't the exercise; she was in quite good shape, and stairs didn't bother her. An emerald haze floated between her and her dormitory doors, formed of minute sparks, some darker than others. A skull leered at her, as did the serpent that protruded from one of its vacant openings. Ginny grasped the bannister for support, trying shut out the realization that her bedroom was guarded by the Dark Mark.